Liebestod
by QuiaVeritatis
Summary: Movie!V's LoveDeath


Liebestod

Movie!V's Love-death

Warning: unexpurgated maudlin self-pity on my part. Sorry. cries

Disclaimer: characters belong to Moore, Lloyd, and WB

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"Beneath this mask there is more than flesh. Beneath this mask there is an Idea, Mr. Creedy, and Ideas are bulletproof. 

V lunges for Creedy's throat, slams him against the gate, lifts him, feels the bones of his neck. With a twist and a crack it is over. V holds him a few beats longer, counting one, two, three, breathing in, breathing out until Creedy's heels stop their staccato jerks; until Creedy hangs from the gallows of V's arms, dead.

V drops him. He relaxes, gasps for air. _It's over. It's over. It's over_. He reaches for the wall to steady himself. _It's over_. More air. _Now what? Yes, Evey. I must get back to Evey. If I die here she will come looking for me. She will leave the train, she will find me here._ He tilts the mask, he can see ten bodies strewn about him. Ten men, all but one bled out into the stagnant water covering the floor of Victoria Station. _She will have to wade through a sea of blood, her ankles covered with it, she will have to kneel in it. No. I can not die here._ He turned and took a step.

_That tunnel. That tunnel will take me back to my train. I will never make it._ V fumbles at his belt. _Heavy. Too heavy._ The buckle falls apart under his gloved fingers, the belt falls to the ground, used, spent, useless, the knives gone. It splashes in a bloody puddle. _Now the armor._ He pulls at the metal plate which covers his chest, sways, vertigo nearly overcomes him and he fights for consciousness. _I must get back to Evey. Cannot die here. _The plate falls away with a clang and a splash. He is lighter, he can stand. New energy flows back to his limbs. _That tunnel_. One step, another. He forces his legs to obey. _They betray me! They are weak. Only a few steps, I cannot._ The wall looms before him. Somehow the wall comes to him. Holds him up. "Ah," his breath flees his lungs. He pauses, gathering strength for the next push. _How much time do I have?_ Exsanguination. He puts both hands to his belly, his chest. Bullets in his thighs, his arms, this one through his side, several through his shoulders. _Oh. And this one_, he puts a gloved finger over the one in his neck. _This one bleeds the most, though I feel the one that tore through my lung…that one hurts. That one…hard to breathe. Arteries? No. I'd be dead already. Veins? Not the vital ones. How much time? It was hard to think. Exsanguination: ten minutes. Maybe fifteen. Less if I have to go far. How far?_ He cannot remember, but he has to go. _Cannot stay here_. The wall holds him up; he pushes off with his hand. _Time to go_. He takes a step into the tunnel. Behind him, a V-shaped blood smear is marked on the wall of Victoria Station.

Darkness, then a light; eerie forms flutter in the darkness, shadows, sounds. V focuses on his legs. One step, another, another. The wall helps. The wall reaches out and holds him every few steps, lets him gather more strength for the next one. But he can feel his life draining away liike the gauge on his ammeter. _I have this much left, now this much. _The needle was dropping rapidly. _Must get back to Evey. She must not go looking for me in these tunnels. Finch has been in these tunnels the last few weeks. He is here now. I can feel him. She must stay with the train. If he finds her, if he finds her… Must go faster._ He swing his legs out farther, makes his strides longer, one hand on the wall, always the wall. _Friendly wall. Helping wall._ He has to think to breathe. _No pain. Pain doesn't matter. _

But it does matter. Every few steps it overwhelms him. His body is rebelling. It wants to die. It wants to lie down. Lie down and die. Now. _No! Not yet_. Another step. _Lie down! Lie down or we will take you down_, his body screams at him. V grits his teeth. Another step. _The wall is with me. The wall is stronger than I am. And Evey. Will she pull the lever? Can she hear Big Ben from here?_ He can. It is after eleven. He hears the half-past-the-hour chime echoing through the tunnel. _Will she still be there? Did she leave? _He stops. The wall holds him. _Breathe._

_If she is gone_…ice flows where hot blood had been. _She did not wait. She is already looking for him, she pulled the lever too soon, not waiting for the music. She decided not to pull the lever. She has gone. She has abandoned me. My books_…he breathes. _The Gallery_…his throat contracts, no air can get in. The tunnel spins around him and he finds himself down on one knee. The wall has betrayed him. It let him fall. The ground. The ground will not betray him. He puts his hand there to feel it. _Yes_. Solid. _Always there, the ground_. It is slick, sticky, warm. _The ground is bleeding_…_no. It's me_.

_I am merging with the ground, but not yet! Not yet! Perhaps she is not gone, yes. She is waiting for me._ His jaw clenches with the effort. _Push the ground, push the ground_. _You will not have me yet!_ The wall reaches out to help him. _Sorry I let you down_, the wall says. _Feel_ _me. Use me. I will take you to her. It's not far_. V presses his shoulder against the wall, pushes on the ground. Stands. Sways. _Not far_. Another step and another. _This is the end_. A wave of relief washes away the pounding pain_. Soon it will be over. Evey will take care of my books, my music, the paintings, my roses…She will love them as I have loved them._ He takes another step, his boots drag on the pavement, the wall reaches for him and pulls him along. _Good friend, the wall. Good friend. _

_And the train?_ Love for his train gives him strength for another step, maybe even two. My _train. If she pulls the lever, my gift to London, to Britain, to humanity. _The faces of the multitude appear in his mind. _Don't let this happen again_, he says to them. _Don't be afraid_, he tells them. _Remember who you are! Your accomplishments! Science! Literature! Love and Roses! Music and dancing. Build upon the rubble I have given you! When there is nothing but rubble, there can be no fear of further destruction! You can only build. And do it right this time! I have faith in you. I love you. I love you_. He falls. The wall tries to stop him. The ground catches him. He is down. Hot stabbing pain strikes at him from his feet to his head, then another icy spear. He begins to shake.

_Exsanguination_. _I am dying. Soon shock will still my legs, blood will fill both lungs and I will die._ The wall tugs at him. _Get up! Get up! I will help you, _it says The ground pushes back. _Get up, _the ground says,_ this is not where I take you. I will take you later, not now. Get up!_ The wall takes his hand, pulls him up to his knees. The ground pushes his legs, he stands. _Through this doorway_, the ground says, _she is there. She is waiting for you._

He takes a shaking step, feels the doorway, sees the light from his tunnel. _My tunnel._ Clean and bright where he had repaired the damage Norsefire had done to the arteries of London. The wall holds him, but the ground wants him. It wants him now. Here. He puts his hands out, but misses, his hat falls to the ground. The ground has his hat. _Soon it will have all of me_. He groans. This is it. He has nothing left. Nothing.

"V!" he hears his name. His name, her voice. _She did wait for him! I have made it to the train_. He feels her arms on him as he lets the ground take him. _I have done it. I am finished. I am safe. _

"Oh! We must stop the bleeding!" He hears the fear in her voice; he wishes he could see her, but everything is dark now.

"Please don't. I'm finished," he tries to breathe. He shivers. Ex_sanguination. Only enough blood left. Just enough to tell her._ He can feel it pooling beneath him, the ground is calling to him, is pulling everything he has out of him. He focuses, _inhale. Take a breath. _

"For twenty years I thought of nothing but this day. Until I saw you." He breathes, "I fell in love with you… like I never thought I could."

"I don't want you to die!"

He hears her voice tremble. She sounds far away. Though he can no longer see her, he can feel her hands on him. Warm and soft. Tiny. Fluttering. Like a bird, she is. A little brown bird.

"That's… the most beautiful thing… you could have given me."


End file.
